The Face of Rosenfeld — page 100: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ees THH FACE OF ROSENFEL. 93 He began to pace the floor with his hands behind his back. “*] have my suspicions,” he continued. ‘‘If you knew them you would be as impatient as I am.” ‘*T doubt it,” returned Lamar, ‘‘ but by and by you will tell them to me and we shall see. Before that, how- ever, I want to settle your mind on one point. Mrs. Forsythe does not know, and never heard of, this man Dye. It was utterly ridiculous, of course, that she should, but to satisfy you I have asked her.” ‘¢ But it is she who lives at 16 Livingston Street?” *«* And it is also her servants who live there!” exclaimed Lamar, impatiently. Any reference to his intended bride always had a de- pressing effect upon the physician. He folded his hands behind him, turned his back on Maxey and looked gloomily out of the window at the river. The artist approached him and laid a friendly Lge on his arm. ‘‘ Old fellow, I have offended you.” ‘¢ Nothing of the sort,” returned Lamar, ‘‘you did simply right. How could you know that the suspicion of the lodging-house keeper in Flood Street was pre- posterous? You never saw her.” Maxey was well aware of that. If there was any mat- ter on earth in which he felt he was not in his friend’g confidence it was this matter of his engagement with the widow Forsythe, and yet his esteem and regard for the man were too great to permit him to neglect an Biehe tunity, such as this, to counsel him. ‘‘ Hustace,” he began hesitatingly, «I wish I eee feel that you wouldn’t think that I was presuming an your friendship.” Lamar turned toward him puzzled and wondering. ~ of m a — bee ‘ — rm ~ = , \ ° otr-e ied . cS co